


I've never been so frustrated, as when you changed me (and I liked it)

by Anna_banana



Series: Motorsport Music AUs [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Manager Charles, Singer/Manager AU, Song writing, singer- songwriter Max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_banana/pseuds/Anna_banana
Summary: Max is a songwriter. The only reason he entered the stupid talent contest was with the hope of one day getting his own lyrics out to the world. He figured he would reach the quarter or semi finals, giving him just the right amount of familiarity to his name to be able to sell his songs to bigger artists.But then he had to go and win the stupid thing.He doesn’t care about performance, if he has to sing in front of an audience then what’s wrong with just grabbing his guitar and singing. He doesn’t care about his style, or fame and would gladly never go on tour again. All of that is his manager, Charles' job to deal with. For the most part, Max is happy to simply sit in his music room and write more music. What else could he possibly need?
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Series: Motorsport Music AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850074
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	I've never been so frustrated, as when you changed me (and I liked it)

**Author's Note:**

> As with many pairings I read other people's works and figure that I won't ever write them myself... and then this happened

Max is a songwriter. The only reason he entered the stupid talent contest was with the hope of one day getting his own lyrics out to the world. He figured he would reach the quarter or semi finals, giving him just the right amount of familiarity to his name to be able to sell his songs to bigger artists. 

But then he had to go and win the stupid thing. 

He doesn’t care about performance, if he has to sing in front of an audience then what’s wrong with just grabbing his guitar and singing. He doesn’t care about his style, or fame and would gladly never go on tour again. All of that is his manager, Charles' job to deal with. For the most part, Max is happy to simply sit in his music room and write more music. What else could he possibly need?

{}

 _‘Your smile is like a guiding light, it takes me from the darkest places,’_ Max sings softly to himself. 

He writes it down, sings it again and then scribbles it out in frustration. Sighing, he puts it down on another notepad, maybe for the next song.

“You should at least try and make it sound like your songs are about your press girlfriends rather than that guy you competed against.”

The sound causes Max to jump. His fingers slam on the keys of the keyboard, making an awful sound. Although, it wasn’t actually much worse than his current writing he thinks to himself gloomily.

“I thought I told you to knock,” Max says to his manager frustrated. “In fact, I think I told you just to call me rather than barging in here at all.” He decides just to ignore the barbed comment about Daniel, it’s not exactly a lie.

But you know, most fans are oblivious and don’t pick that kind of thing up anyway. The ones that do are ignored.

“And I told you that I would do that, if you ever picked up your phone,” Charles responds. 

Max is about to argue that Charles hasn’t phoned him but then he actually picks up his mobile. There’s 10 missed calls. In his defense, it’s impossible to concentrate on songwriting when your phone is a constantly beeping distraction. Rather than apologising, or defending himself, Max simply waits silently to find out what it is that Charles wants.

“You need to set tour dates now Max,” he says and Max groans out loud. 

He doesn’t mind the gigs themselves so much but touring sucks. You’re trapped sitting in a horrible bus for hours and hours, hotel rooms for weeks on end. Sensing that he’s about to object, Charles continues to speak.

“If you don’t you’re going to be fired for breach of contract.” 

Well damn, Max can’t help but think. This is exactly why he went into the talent show with exactly no intention of winning.

“I could always just leave my contract. I’m big enough now I could sell my songs, hell I could even buy my own record label,” he argues. 

As soon as he says it, Charles snorts in derision.

“You’ve met Helmut haven’t you? He’ll sue you for everything that you’re worth. Good luck with finding people willing to work with you after that.”

Max hates Charles' argument, hates the man himself most of the time. As much as he dislikes it however he knows that his manager is right. There’s a reason he went with Helmut as a coach, the man is ruthless. That same ruthlessness comes with a heavy price however, if you’re not successful or if you try to break ties with him the results can be devastating. The thought reminds him that he should really check up and see how Pierre is doing nowadays.

This time the loud thudding noise that comes from the keyboard is intentional as Max hits his head off the keys. 

“It’s only one more year and then you’re finished.” 

Max lets out a sigh, he already knows this, the date saved in his calendar on his phone. He even has it written down as well, circled half a dozen times for emphasis. Rather than commenting further he begins to negotiate the plans with Charles for the rest of the year. They settle on a bunch of T.V. appearances and intimate gigs rather than a tour, with an extended E.P. rather than a full album. 

Eventually Charles leaves, reminding him he’ll have to sign something agreeing to these plans and telling him to keep his phone on in the future. Max glances at the keyboard once more, before tidying his notebooks away, he knows he isn’t going to be able to write anything good for the rest of the night.

{}

“You need to stop breaking up with your press girlfriends,” Charles says at the start of their meeting, and Max can’t help snorting in response.

“Well, technically, they’ve all broken up with me,” he responds, knowing full well that isn’t the point.

“That’s not the way the press sees it,” Charles says back and yup, there it is.

That’s all it ever comes down to, it makes no difference whether their truth is his lie.

An idea comes to him and he goes on his phone to note it down, Charles doesn’t even comment on it, more than used to the action by now, no longer even finding it rude. 

“Why can’t I just stay single and be one of those guys that writes romantic depressing songs because he isn’t getting any?”

It’s an argument that’s never worked with Helmut, but he feels the need to say it anyway.

“You’re too hot to do that.”

Max’s jaw nearly drops in shock, Charles has never complimented him before. The only thing that even comes close is when his manager commented that his songs clearly aren’t complete rubbish seeing as they sell so well. Not that Max is keeping track or anything. Not that Max cares at all about what he thinks. 

“You think I’m hot,” is all Max can say, unable to think of a more coherent response. 

Charles flushes, as though it’s only just dawned on him what he’s said. Max takes in the redness of his face and catalogues it, having never seen the look on his manager before. 

Rather than justifying what he said or correcting himself, Charles decides to just power on through the meeting, repeating all of the same bullshit explanations that are always said. At the end of the day Helmut forced Max into the closet, unable to see the changing climate and the growing positivity for bi and gay artists. Not wanting to listen to the boring and repetitive lecture, one that’s over an issue barely even his fault, Max just grabs his phone and tries to write some lyrics.

Charles lets him, barely even checking whether or not Max continues to pay attention. 

_‘Your blush, the only part of you, I think I’ll ever want to touch.’_

{}

“Max, Charlie,” a voice calls out. 

Unable to figure out who it is, Max turns his head. Spotting Alex, he grins at his friend and makes his way across the room to meet him in the middle. It’s only when he greets Alex, that his brain catches up with what he had said.

“Charlie?” he questions.

Max glances at Charles who simply shrugs at him. So it isn’t a common nickname then. Max doesn’t know why he cares so much. It’s just curiosity, he tells himself. Charles excuses himself, offering to get them all a drink. It’s just curiosity Max tells himself.

“How many Thai singers do you know?” Alex asks him.

Max is curious about the change of topic but decides to ignore it and stop being stupid and you know, inquisitive.

“Just you,” he replies questioningly.

“Exactly, Charlie is the best,” Alex says and ah, Max thinks he gets it now.

Just as Alex says that, Charles returns, having clearly snagged some drinks from a waiter. Max accepts the drink with a grimace. There are many things he hates about Red Bull Productions events but one of the top things is that they don’t serve anything other than champagne.

“Thank you Alex,” Charles says, “I would repeat the sentiment but I’m supposed to support all my artists equally.”

All three laugh and take a sip of their drinks. If Max’s laugh sounds a bit forced well, it’s no secret how much he dislikes these events. The first year, he got champagne drunk and tried to fight a choreographer called Carlos. Remembering how messy he is when champagne drunk, Max reminds himself that this will be his only glass. Who knows what he would do this time if he drank too much. Vomit over Alex or something probably. 

_‘You hand me a drink, a consolation, and it’s only then that I realise, you’re the thing I want, and you’re gone.’_

{} 

“Why didn’t things work out with Daniel?” Charles asks him.

Normally they stray away from personal conversation. At first they never wanted to, arguing and disagreeing with each other at every turn, their relationship only professional due to the thin thread of their working obligations keeping them together. Eventually it became a more complicated matter. They still bickered sometimes but more out of habit than anything else. Their strict professionalism slowly grew as more of a necessity with them both having jobs and Max’s contract with the production company about to finish. For a long time, it has been important not to say or do anything to jeopardize his escape.

The papers have been signed now. Obligations have been filled. In a matter of days Max will be free. Free to do whatever he likes. Free to make the announcements that he has planned. 

“Does he seem like the kind of guy that would hide who he is to you?” he asks, knowing Charles is also friends with Daniel because of some old family friendship connection. Weirdly, he’s never asked either of them about it. Although considering his very different relationships with them both, maybe it’s not so weird at all. 

Charles says nothing, knowing that he can’t deny what Max has said. A relationship based on secrets would never be a viable life for Dan.

Max thinks of Daniel fondly, his Aussie friend and former competitor, apparently he’s now in some sort of weird punk/ screamo duo with some hot German guy. He would be lying if he said he understood it, but Daniel seems happy and that’s all that matters. 

It’s a great relief to Max that while he still thinks of Dan fondly, he no longer associates the older man with a long list of _what if’s._

“I’m going to release an album,” Max says, deciding to change the subject. Max has more plans for when he starts running his own production, but he figures that those can be left as a surprise.

“So soon after your EP?” Charles questions, surprised. He then apologises afterwards, realising that he still had his manager head on. 

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of ideas and this seems like quite a different body of work,” he explains. “I can show you the single if you like?” 

Max grabs a piece of paper from his coffee table after Charles has agreed. He’s written it out separately from everything else, not willing to chance Charles seeing any of the random thoughts jotted down in his notebooks. He dangles the paper in front of Charles enticingly. He’s not willing to sing it in front of him, not when he doesn’t know how Charles will react.

At the beginning of their time working together, Max recalls a fight. One so bad that Charles actually threatened to quit. Max accused Charles of being a coward, managing because he’s too afraid to share his own music with the world and have the world find it lacking. Charles accused Max of being a coward in turn. Accusing his lyrics of being fake and vapid, hiding the truth behind them.

In a way they were both right. Charles got the managing job to help out his family but then never left, instead writing classical pieces under a pseudonym. Max could go through every single line of his works, tell you which is fake and which is not. He has notebooks full of far truer songs, one’s he doesn’t think he’s ever going to have the stomach to share. 

Max hands Charles a piece of paper and Charles accepts it, instead of asking him to sing. Sometimes, both of them can be cowards. 

_‘I’ve never been so frustrated as when you changed me and I liked it.’_

Charles reads on, eyes frantically scanning the page, mouthing the words as he goes along.

_’And I loved you in the fight, now I love you in the peace, but I don’t know how you, see me._

Charles whisper sings the last words, eyes brimming with tears. His eyes flick over the page once more, as though he has to unravel every possible meaning of the words before he can comment on them. 

Seeing the look on Charles’ face, Max begins to panic. He tries to think of something, anything to say but comes up with nothing. As much as he might want to, Max won’t take it back, can’t take it back, this song is the truth. 

There’s a long moment of silence. Max tries to gauge Charles’ reaction but finds himself unable to do so. The pair just sit and look at each other, both seemingly watching, waiting for something to happen.

Charles sits the paper on the sofa next to him. He places it down as though some written words are the delicate, precious thing instead of him. Max wills himself to remember to write that down as a note later because now isn’t exactly the time. Charles stands up and Max simply looks up at him and waits, hoping that the other man isn’t heading for the door. Charles only moves a couple of steps, and is now standing directly in front of Max’s armchair. Max simply closes his eyes. He hopes and he waits. 

Max senses Charles’ closeness to him and guesses the other man has leaned down. He resists the urge to open his eyes. Finally, Charles kisses him. 

At the beginning of their time working together, Max thought if they kissed that it would be a violent clash, an explosion. Teeth scraping and a fight for dominance, no push and pull, only push and push and take. When Charles and Max first started working together, Max would have strongly denied ever imagining kissing him. 

Here, now, their kiss is the complete opposite. The imagined heat and passion remain but the once pictured aggression is replaced with gentleness, a shared exploration and desperation.  
Max always has a playlist for moments in his life, for places and for people. Charles was once associated with heavy rock, with the screeching of guitars and the crashing of cymbals. But playlists can develop and change. The rock calmed and flowed into cheesy pop, fitting for the cliche of his changing feelings from hate to fondness. The cheesy pop trails of with a change of tempo, replaced with Max’s own music, an album written purely for Charles and intersected with the pieces of Charles’ classical writings he has been fortunate enough to hear. Max can’t help but hope that Charles’ playlist is one that he’ll always have to keep adding to and changing.

They pull apart, Max has no idea how long they were kissing for. It was probably only seconds but in the best way possible it felt like forever. They look each other in the eye. They can’t stop beaming at each other. 

{}

“You’re getting a new manager right?”

Max can’t believe that’s the first thing that Charles has said to them after what they have just done. Considering his job however, Max can’t exactly blame him.

“Can’t I just keep you?”

Max asks the question despite knowing the answer. He’s stubborn and doesn’t like change. 

“You know you can’t,” Charles says softly.

He fixes a strand of Max’s hair as he speaks and Max finds it impossible to be annoyed at the situation.

“I can send you a list of recommendations,” he continues and Max thinks it over.

“Not Christian Horner?” he double checks.

It causes Charles to laugh.

“No, I won’t put Horner on the list,” he replies, still chuckling.

The pair lay in bed together giggling, nothing amusing even happening any more. Eventually the laughter dies down and instead they simply smile softly at each other. 

Considering everything he’s gained, Max can’t exactly feel too bad about losing a manager.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this super OOC?  
> Thoughts, comments, kudos all greatly appreciated.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at bottasvaltteri


End file.
